


Goop

by amirosebooks



Series: Team Free Will + Goo = Shenanigans [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amirosebooks/pseuds/amirosebooks
Summary: Written for the Seasons fan fiction anthology. This story is from the Summer section which was intended to cover themes like: freedom, laughter, fun; sunshine, hot days; swimming, sunburns; slow, lazy, relaxed; contentment; flourishing growth, childhood; no regrets or second thoughts; unreality; disconnected from the darkness of “real life”; the prime of life; Fourth of July, Stanford, vacation from school.I opted for writing a quick story celebrating a happy, ridiculous Team Free Will at its finest on a hunt sort of moment. I've been told by my main beta that the subject matter (witch guts) is sort of gross so keep that in mind.





	Goop

Dean gagged at the overwhelmingly sweet smell of witch guts. He held his hands out in front of him, palm up and studied the thick goop. It was starting to drip onto the forest ground beneath his feet.

“Gross,” Dean said.

“I think she’s dead,” Sam said. “Looks like the spell we found worked.”

“You call this worked?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows. “We’re _covered_ in her. How was this part of the plan?”

“She can’t hurt anyone else now,” Cas said.

Dean stared at the angel. His trench coat was tinted with the weird red-green color of the witch’s insides and his hair was flattened over his forehead. Despite taking the worst hit in the explosion, Cas looked unperturbed.

“If your mojo hadn’t decided to take a vacation during this case, we wouldn’t have had to resort to the bargain basement spell book Sam dug up,” Dean said pointing a goopy finger at the angel. 

“Hey, it wasn’t cheap,” Sam said. “It was one of the pricier books in the shop.”

“Oh good,” Dean said. “I’m glad you wasted a bunch of money on the faulty book. That makes me feel _much_ better about being covered in dead witch right now, Sammy.”

“My mojo didn’t take a ‘vacation,’ Dean.” Cas rolled his eyes. “The witch cursed me.”

“Your fingers shot flowers when you tried to heal me, Cas,” Dean said.

Sam made a noise somewhere between a dry laugh and clearing his throat. Dean and Cas turned to look at him.

“We should get cleaned up,” Sam said. 

“I believe with the witch dead my grace will work as normal,” Cas said. He stretched one hand toward Dean. “I can clean the remnants of dead witch from us.”

Dean took a step back in spite of himself. “No, we don’t know for sure if you’re fully functional yet or not.”

“He’s got a point, Dean,” Sam said. “When have we seen a spell or curse outlast the witch who cast it?”

“Are you volunteering to be a guinea pig for Feathers over here?” Dean asked his brother. “Be my guest.”

“Uh...” Sam looked sideways at Cas. 

“Dean,” Cas said. “Sam is too large to be a guinea pig. They're small, fluffy creatures.”

Dean frowned at Cas. 

Sometimes it was hard to tell when the angel was being serious and when he was messing with them. Judging by the twinkle of laughter in his eyes and too-blank expression, Dean guessed this was Cas stretching his sarcasm muscles again. At least someone was having fun.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Cas,” Dean said. “And, no, you’re not using Sam as a guinea pig. Let’s head back to your truck and find a motel or something to hose off at.”

“The nearest town is almost an hour away,” Sam said.

“You got a better idea?” Dean asked.

“Maybe we can find a river or an old hunter’s cabin,” Sam said.

“You think that’ll take less time than driving into town?” Dean asked.

“I think it’s less likely to get us arrested or, at the very least, stopped and questioned,” Sam said. “Witch blood looks weird, but it still looks like blood. Even if it does have a green tint to it and smells like candy.”

“I’m never eating candy again,” Dean said. “And our clothes are getting burned.”

“There is a lake nearby,” Cas said. “I could transport us there.”

“No,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “We’re getting there the old fashioned way, walking.”

“Dean,” Cas said. “Let me help.”

“Not until we know you’re fixed,” Dean said.

“How will we know I’m fixed if you don’t let me try?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. He didn’t have a good answer for that, but that didn’t mean he wanted to risk his best friend’s life on a chance the curse might be lifted now that the witch was dead. For all they knew, there could be residual magic left in her blood rendering Cas’s grace unusable or more unstable than before. He couldn’t risk it.

“The answer is no,” Dean said.

Cas glared at him and waved a grace-glowing hand over himself. A moment later, there wasn’t a trace of the witch’s guts or blood on the angel’s trench coat or the rest of his clothes. Even his hair was styled like normal.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Dean asked. 

“It worked,” Cas said. 

“You just risked your life when I told you not to,” Dean said.

“It was hardly a risk,” Cas said. “Her curse on me wasn’t life threatening.”

“You didn’t know for sure,” Dean said.

“I had to try,” Cas said. “Now let me get you two clean.”

Dean growled in exacerbation. At some point, he and Cas had moved closer together as they’d shouted back and forth. Cas was close enough to reach out and touch. Dean lifted one witch-goop-covered hand and wiped it from the angel’s hair down over his face. Cas’s eyes widened to a comical size. 

Sam laughed.

“Did you just wipe dead witch on my face?” Cas asked.

“Yes, yes I did.” Dean nodded.

Cas blinked and grace-cleaned himself again. 

Dean grinned and grabbed Cas in a headlock. He pulled Cas’s head down to chest level like Dean used to do to Sam after Sam’s first big growth spurt started making him taller than Dean. He started to rub his goopy knuckles in the angel’s hair.

Sam’s laughter grew louder. “Are you really giving Cas a noogie?”

“He deserves it,” Dean said. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

“What is a noogie?” Cas asked as he struggled to get away without hurting Dean. 

“This,” Dean said as he rubbed more witch guts into the angel’s hair. 

The next thing Dean knew, he was laying flat on the ground with Cas sitting across his thighs. Dean frowned in confusion at the angel.

“I think I understand this game now,” Cas said as he smiled and grabbed two handfuls of leaves and dirt from the forest floor then mushed them into Dean’s hair.

“Hey, knock it off.” Dean laughed as he tried to roll away from the angel’s dirty hands. “Sam, quit laughing and help me out!”

“Nope, I’m good,” Sam said.

Dean growled, then wrapped his arms around Cas’s back. With a twist of his hips, he rolled them so Cas was beneath him. If the angel wanted to play at who could get the other messier, then Cas was going to lose. 

Five minutes later, Dean was out of breath and could feel a bruise forming on his side from where he’d rolled over a pointy rock. His ribs and stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He was also free of gore and dirt. Cas had won the struggle and cleaned the three of them with a smug grin on his face. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Dean said. “I need to take fifty showers before bed.”

Cas tilted his head. “Dean, you’re cle--”

“Not the point, Cas,” Dean said. “I can still feel her guts all over me.”

With a full body shudder, Dean smiled and led his family out of the woods.


End file.
